


when we get this nasty

by Vivian



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, [Partition plays in the background]
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 21:01:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7190189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivian/pseuds/Vivian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Emperor,” Amidala says, voice over-enunciated, respectless. “Are you here to stare or <i>fuck</i>?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	when we get this nasty

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks goes to my [love](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelas) who beta'd this and was as thoughtful as always in her comments. <3  
> This fic is mostly the fault of [cormallen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cormallen). I hope this is to your satisfaction.

Senator Amidala wears a veil of black-silk tulle. Its hexagonal interlock allows only a glimpse of his white-painted skin. His red mouth, blood seared into porcelain. He smokes one of Hux’s cigarettes, closing his lips around the veil as he takes a deep drag. Then exhales. Grey smoke wafts through the fabric. And in the dim light of the glider, Amidala looks almost apocryphal. Phantom-clad, spewing shadows. Wearing his paint like armour.

But Amidala is none of that.

When he moves, it is inelegant, when he speaks his voice echoes staccato. He is a savage thing, child to a traitorous mother and a criminal father, and grandson of one whom he will never equal.

Yet, many follow Amidala. They see him as one who wields the Force, one with true _might_ —

Hux’s lips twitch. They know nothing of might.

Behind the coloured shades of the glider, Coruscant’s night rushes by. They are on the way to an event in honour of the soldiers who laid down their lives defending the New Empire against the latest attack of the Resistance. Their number is small compared to that of the Resistance’s losses. And yet. Hux will no longer tolerate this. His rule has stabilised enough to take the next step. His policy of retaliation will soon wipe the Resistance from the galaxy, once and for all. And General Organa will fall.

Amidala stirs. Hux shoots him a cold look.

A darkened pane of glass separates them from the pilot. A Harbin-re opera plays in the background. Twined voices knit into a crescendo of strings. The voices perish. The strings ease into an electronic, twisting melody underlain by a slow beat. An entr'acte.

Amidala passes him the cigarette, fingers trembling. Hux’s lips twitch. He grimaces at the red smears on the cigarette paper. He takes a drag. Keeps the smoke in his lungs for a counted moment as he studies Amidala. He exhales.

“Come closer.”

Amidala does, sliding slow, over the backseat, leather creaking underneath him.

“Show me your face.”

Amidala draws up the veil, sliding it back. It glides over Amidala’s black hair, sinking low, to the curve of his neck. Without it, nothing hides the asymmetry of his face. He is not beautiful. He is artless. With his dark eyes and long nose and pointy, askew chin. And his lewd, red mouth.

It twists now, lips moving, drawing back over a row of uneven teeth.

“Emperor,” Amidala says, voice over-enunciated, respectless. “Are you here to _stare_ or _fuck_?”

Disgust shivers through Hux.

His eyes narrow, gaze shifting over Amidala’s face, then lower, his bulky shoulders, half revealed by the gown he wears, black shantung silk embroidered with bone-lace, and rubies stitched into it. They gleam bloody in the dim of the lamps. And there, between Amidala’s splayed legs, the thick outline of his half-hard cock. A shiver runs down Hux’s spine.

Hux’s gaze snaps up again. Amidala watches him, mouth pouting, eyes feverish. _Pathetic_.

“Well, then,” Hux says. Pauses. Draws out the moment. “What are you waiting for?”

Amidala moves quickly. He presses his body into the space between Hux and the glass pane at his back. On his knees, like the worthless slut he is. Amidala's big hands come to rest on Hux’s thighs, stroking upward. Hux allows him to feel his cock for a moment and grows hard underneath the touch. He watches Amidala’s breath hitch. Repulsion tingles in Hux’s fingertips.

“Hands behind your back,” he says sharply and takes another drag from his cigarette.

Amidala licks his lips, eyes wide, complying. Hux opens his trousers and frees his cock. He strokes himself once, twice, slowly. Amidala exhales a shaky breath, inching forward.

“Ask me,” Hux demands, blowing out smoke to the side.

“Please,” Amidala says. “Please let me suck your dick.” His voice quivers. Shame resonates in it.

Hux reaches out with the hand holding the cigarette, gloved thumb grazing Amidala’s lips. Amidala looks up, the smoldering tip of the cigarette close to his cheek. Hux feels the tremble going through Amidala as he smears some of the paint over his mouth. Hux lets go of his cock and instead seizes a fistful of Amidala’s hair. He pulls his head back, exposing his pale throat. Assessing, he takes another drag from the cigarette. Where the paint fades into Amidala’s skin tone, birthmarks dot his flesh. Hux thinks, _vulnerable_ . It disgusts him. He exhales, smoking curling upward, and pushes his cock into Amidala’s waiting mouth. Plush lips wrap around him and an eager tongue slides against its veined underside. Amidala bends his neck, shifting, taking Hux deeper inside. And Hux watches. How his reddened cock glides between those lips, his balls pressing against Amidala’s chin. The one whom so many praise as Lord Vader’s heir, is Hux’s ruttish whore. What would they think, could they see Senator Kylo Amidala now? On his knees for his emperor. Not to gain favours, but of his own volition. No matter how often Amidala speaks against him in the senate, he always comes back. For this. To be _used_ . Amidala moans around him. Hux grips his hair tighter, pushes into his mouth, down his throat, and Amidala chokes on him. Tears wet his blackened lashes. Worthless. Hux thrusts in harder. Tears smudge black over Amidala’s cheeks. The noises Amidala makes are obscene, _revolting_. Hux shudders.

“You repel me,” Hux grits. Amidala looks up at him, dark eyes wet. He wears his emotions plainly. Without his veil and his makeup in place, Hux reads him, easily. The shame. The anger. And the lust. His brows drawn together, his cheeks flushing and tainting the white paint, his mouth, his throat working, his whole body bent for Hux, trembling, goosebumps crawling over the exposed skin of his neck and shoulders. Hux wants to tear his gown. Wants to spread him out and fuck him. Until he is begging and bruised, all his strength _submitting_ to Hux.

Suddenly, Amidala moves. Against his will, Hux loosens his grip on Amidala’s hair—the _Force_ — Lips slide off his cock and the next moment press against Hux’s own. He feels the paint smearing over his mouth. Then a hot, wet tongue. Hux’s pulse quickens. He wants to push Amidala away, fingers digging into Amidala’s shoulders, but Amidala is stronger. Hux can feel Amidala’s dick against his thigh, as his mouth moves over Hux’s cheek, his jaw, and then opens against his neck.

“Stop,” Hux hisses, heartbeat pounding loud in his hears.

Amidala sucks at the skin of his neck and his hands rip Hux’s shirt out of his trousers, then he shoves them underneath. The touch is searing. Dreadful. Hux is losing control.

Amidala is still between his thighs and for one terrible moment, Hux thinks he might want to turn the tables. Then Amidala retreats his hands, moves upward, back bending, and spreads his legs as to sit on Hux’s lap. The silk of his gown grazes Hux’s cock. Amidala is too tall and bulky, he has to bend down as not to hit his head on the roof of the glider. Then Amidala is gathering up the skirts of his gown, hands scrambling to rip away his underwear. And there—the touch of his thick dick against Hux’s own. Amidala’s precome leaks against Hux’s cock. It is disgusting, it feels so filthy—

Amidala’s moan on the wet skin of his neck. Amidala ruts against him, bracing himself on the backrest. A shudder goes through Hux, thoughts whitening, heat taking over.

Hux places the cigarette onto the rim of the ashtray to his side with trembling fingers. Then he fists the back of Amidala’s gown and tears it open. The silk rips. Amidala lets out a harsh groan, pressing against Hux. Their cocks lie hard and throbbing against Hux’s stomach. Hux lets go of the ripped silk and instead pushes up Amidala’s skirts with one hand, then grasps his ass hard enough to bruise. Amidala mewls, his cock twitching against Hux’s.

“I am not going to fuck you,” Hux breathes, his mouth lying against Amidala’s sweaty temple.

“ _Please_ ,” Amidala begs.

“No,” Hux says, bringing his other hand to Amidala’s ass. He spreads his cheeks and rubs his index finger over Amidala’s hole. Amidala shudders. The fingers of his other hand dig into the meat of Amidala’s ass. Hux wants more. It sickens him. Desire rises like bile in his throat, to posses.

The music grows louder, the beat faster. Amidala cants his hips forward, aligning their dicks, then backward into Hux’s touch. His lips travel along Hux’s neck. Hux swallows and knows, Amidala must feel it. Then Amidala’s lips press against his own. For a moment, Hux allows Amidala to kiss him. His soft mouth. Hux grabs his ass harder and kisses him back. He pushes his tongue between Amidala’s lips, teeth clashing, tongues sliding over the other. He feels Amidala’s dick twitch. And for one blinding second, Hux wants to set aside all caution, wants to forget that soon they will arrive at the event, wants to take his time with Amidala. He digs his left hand into Amidala’s hip and draws back his right, just to bring it down hard onto Amidala’s ass. Amidala’s gasp is sharp. Hux does it again. His own cock is painfully hard, straining against Amidala’s. Hux strikes him a third time.

“Please,” Amidala begs, “please fuck me, I need your dick inside me, I want you to come inside me, please.”

Hux sucks in a trembling breath, reining himself. Then he speaks.

“You do not deserve it. I will come on your face. And you will be grateful.”

Amidala ruts against him once more, their cocks sliding against each other. Hux hates it. It feels so good.

“On your knees,” Hux commands. His right hand still lies over Amidala’s ass, the flesh hot underneath his palm. Hux digs his fingernails in. Amidala sobs. Finally Amidala moves. He drags himself down artlessly, once more between Hux’s thighs. When he looks up, his mouth is smeared red, eyeliner smudged by his tears. He trembles.

“Get on with it,” Hux tells him.

Amidala bends forward, hot breath ghosting over Hux’s cock. He drags his lips over its side, then licks upward to the tip, sucking it into his mouth. Hux bites his tongue and swallows hard. He takes a fistful of Amidala’s hair. It is cue enough for Amidala to start bobbing his head, letting Hux’s cock slide in and out of his mouth messily. Hux exhales slowly, laying his head head back, jaw clenched, watching with narrowed eyes. He takes the cigarette from the ashtray, letting the ashen end break off against the ashtray’s rim. Amidala watches him, slowing his movement, just to then swallow Hux down completely, choking around him. Hux is so close. Amidala knows it, too. His left hand cups Hux’s balls while his right circles the base of Hux’s cock. Hux takes a drag from the cigarette, blowing smoke out through his nostrils and grabs Amidala’s hair tighter. Amidala swallows around him, a low hum vibrating in his throat. Hux pulls Amidala’s head back, cock sliding out of his throat. Then there is only white heat and Hux is coming, blinding. Amidala’s mouth is open, tongue eager to catch what Hux gives. Hux’s come coats Amidala’s lips with pale streaks, his cheeks, his chin. And Amidala licks his lips clean. He uses his fingers to gather more of Hux’s come and sucks it from his fingertips.

Hux takes the last drag of his cigarette and bends forward. He puts it out on Amidala’s skin, in the hollow where the tendons of his neck meet his collarbone. Amidala doesn’t make a sound.

“Sit,” Hux commands, while he discards the stub into the ashtray. He tucks himself back into his trousers. Then procures a silver case and lights another cigarette.

Amidala obeys. They do not touch. Hux looks at him coldly.

“Pull up your gown.”

Amidala gathers his skirts up, revealing his hard dick, reddened, heavy. Hux takes a drag of his cigarette.

“Get your fingers wet and ready.”

Amidala sucks two fingers into his mouth, coats them with spit.

“Enough. Finger yourself.”

Amidala makes to reach behind himself.

“No,” Hux interjects, “so I can see.”

Amidala braces himself against the door of the glider, drawing up his legs, planting his feet on the seat as to shift his hips upward. It must be uncomfortable. Tentatively Amidala reaches between his legs. His index finger circles his hole, rubs over it and carefully presses between the ring of muscle. He tilts his head back, mouth falling open.

“Look at me,” Hux says.

Amidala swallows, Hux watches his Adam’s apple bob. But Amidala complies. Feverish eyes, black in the dim light.

“Push both fingers in,” Hux says.

Amidala trembles. Then he obeys. The stretch must sting. Amidala’s neglected cock twitches. Hux watches how Amidala pushes his fingers inside, tugs them out, then back in, opening himself up. His red, debauched hole. Spit glistens on the rim. Hux breathes out through his nostrils, then he sucks on the cigarette, inhaling the smoke deeply, keeping it in his lungs for another counted moment.

“Touch your cock,” Hux says, breathing out smoke to the side.

Now, Amidala bites his lip. His free hand wraps around his dick and Hux can see the shudder going through him. Amidala moans, bites his lip again, then draws his tongue over it, keeping his gaze on Hux.

“I want to come,” Amidala moans.

“Not yet.”

“Please,” Amidala mewls.

“I said _not yet_.”

Amidala’s breath hitches. Hux’s heart beats fast. He watches Amidala struggle, his muscles taut, hands trembling, skin flushed and sweaty, and some of Hux’s come still on his cheek. Hux wants to keep him like this. Wants to have Amidala after he has come, is over-sensitive, wants to push more bruises into his skin, wants to strike his ass bloody, wants Amidala broken and begging for more.

“Now,” Hux says, voice hoarse.

Amidala comes, choking back a moan. He catches most of his spent in his fist, continuing to push inside himself as he rides out his orgasm. Then Amidala brings up his hand and licks his own come from his fingers. Hux watches, revolted, lips pursed. He takes another drag.

“I take it you brought another gown,” Hux says.

Amidala snorts.

“Yes,” Amidala grits.

“Good.” Hux inhales the smoke. “Clean up.”

Amidala’s lips twitch.

“Kiss me,” Amidala says, voice staccato.

Hux assesses him.

“Certainly not.”

Amidala’s legs glide over the seat, sitting up properly once more. He bends over to Hux. Hux doesn’t move. Amidala kisses him. And for a moment, Hux closes his eyes. The taste of Amidala’s come is bitter. Hux sucks it from Amidala’s lips, from his tongue. Without thought, he reaches out, sliding a hand to rest between Amidala’s thighs.

Amidala breaks the kiss.

“Take me with you, afterwards,” Amidala mumbles.

Hux looks at him. Says nothing. And nods once.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Sin with me on my kylux [tumblr](http://kyluxxury.tumblr.com).


End file.
